


Safety Delayed

by SWModdy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Obi-Wan needs hugs, This is a whump series, poor obi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 14,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWModdy/pseuds/SWModdy
Summary: Instead of being sent to Bandomeer and becoming the padawan of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan is picked by another Knight as their padawan. Forward three years and Obi-Wan is a sixteen year old that friends notices have changed and when his master gets injured, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi is once more set to meet.





	1. Quiet fear

Settling down carefully in one corner of the hanger, Obi-Wan tucked his hands into his lap as he was taught and quietly observed Bant and Master Tahl through his lashes as they also boarded the ship with Jinn leading up the back.

Because of a sparring accident, Master Shkma had not been able to go on the planned mission with the other master and padawan duo and therefor a substitute master had been found as it was a two man team.

On one hand Obi-Wan was relieved and yet on the other he was more scared than ever as he did not know master Jinn much at all.

At least with Shkma he knew what to expect and how to behave around the man to avoid most punishments.

But Jinn…

‘Maybe if I just stay quiet and out of his way, he will be neutral to my presence?’ Obi-Wan wondered, tensing a bit as Bant flopped down beside him in a noisy manner. Nervously he glanced towards the masters only to find them chatting together as they settled into the seats instead of the floor as the two padawans had done.

Obviously Jinn and Tahl knew each other.

At least neither were paying attention to him and he slowly looked to his beaming friend instead. “It feels like ages since we saw each other Obi-Wan!” She chirped loudly and Obi-Wan tensed once more as he gave a small nod.

He was saved from answering as the ramp was raised, their pilot announcing they were taking off and had been given a takeoff window. Bant instantly scuttled into a seat and belted herself in while Obi-Wan remained on the floor, hands still in his lap.

“Are you not going to belt yourself in Padawan Kenobi?” Jinn asked, head tilted as he watched Obi-Wan and the redhead quickly got to his feet and settled beside Bant as his friend gave him a funny look.

He just kept his head bent and hands in his lap, he really didn’t want master Jinn to report back to Master Shkma that he wasn’t behaving. He still remembered the mans stark warning as he laid in bed, glaring at Obi-Wan.

‘Be on your best karking behavior you laserbrain or believe me, your last punishment will look like child play. If Jinn has even one issue with you, I will know. I don’t expect much from a dimwit like you but do as he says.’

The reminder had Obi-Wan tensing and he barely resisted the urge to wrap his robe around him, old and fresh bruises aching all over.

He didn’t see the masters exchange looks over his head, both with furrowed brows.

()()()

“Its not just me right?” Tahl said softly. “There’s something wrong with him?” She kept her voice low in case either padawans were paying attention to them though she was rather sure that Bant was consumed in their game.

But Obi-Wan…

He would constantly glance towards them.

Not in an obvious way, just from the corner of his eyes, a quick glance, wary like a startled animal.

Qui-Gon hummed softly. “Have you noticed this before? I admit I haven’t been around the boy much but you said he’s Bant’s friend?”

Tahl paused, mentally reviewing her interactions Obi-Wan in the past. “Yes but… now that I think about it… he has never spent much time around me or come to the quarters to see Bant. If they meet its in the classrooms, library or sparring halls. Or to lunch.” Her brows furrowed deeply.

Rubbing his beard gingerly, Qui-Gon gave the boy one more glance before sighing. “We’ll keep an eye on it and if we get too worried about his behavior we can contact Knight Shkma, see if its just his normal behavior and he’s just worried about being gone from his master and with unfamiliar Jedi.” He settled on, Tahl giving a slow nod in agreement.


	2. Common behavior?

“Is this behavior common for Obi-Wan?”

Rubbing her hands together, Bant peered back at her master before glancing towards the corner where Obi-Wan had curled up covered in blankets with his back pressed to the wall and his face to the room, knees up to his chest. “If I’m honest master… Obi-Wan’s changed a lot since he became Knight Shkma’s padawan actually.” She shrugged. “He used to be loud and happy but he’s gone really quiet since he became a padawan, almost… leery of everything?” She finally answered her master’s question. “But this is his common behavior these days.”

Bant had been startled when her master had woken her up gently and drawn her away from Obi-Wan to another corner where Master Qui-Gon had been waiting too.

But her question had startled Bant even more because she hadn’t expected it.

Now she felt uncomfortable, watching the two master’s exchange uncertain look until Tahl finally looked back to Bant. “He changed in behavior?” She questioned softly.

Shrugging a bit, Bant sighed. “He used to be boisterous, mischievous and happy. Now he’s… always quiet. And if others are around he’s almost silent. Others that aren’t padawans that is.” She elaborated.

Maybe it was a good thing that Obi-Wan had changed in behavior but something heavy settled in Bant’s stomach that told her that it wasn’t.

Once more the masters exchanged glances, more obviously troubled before Tahl smiled and nodded to Bant, sending her back to their makeshift bedding for more rest. Rest that took a long time for Bant to come as her mind buzzed with questions as she stared at the pale face of her old childhood friend, wonder why she had never questioned the change in behavior now.

Because now that she had spoken up…

She was alarmed.

What had happened to Obi-Wan?

()()()

Waiting until they were sure that Bant was finally asleep again, Tahl turned to Qui-Gon with a deep frown on on her dark face. “You don’t think…” Tahl didn’t finish the sentence, unease brewing in her stomach.

Her old friend sent her a harsh look before slowly rising, making his way so silently it belayed his size until he reached the padawans while Tahl watched in growing confusion even as she remained in her seat.

She watched as he lowered himself slowly into a crouch and then went quiet, simply observing Obi-Wan for a long moment before he slowly reached out with one finger.

Tahl held her breath, green and golden eyes wide as the finger slowly got closer and closer to Obi-Wan until Qui-Gon poked the boy in the cheek.

Instant reaction, Obi-Wan’s knees tucked into his stomach even closer while his arm drew up over his head without even waking up or making a noise.

A classical defense position to protect the most vulnerable and a trained response to not making a noise of fright.

Tahl closed her eyes, putting her face in her hands and she heard Qui-Gon let out a shaking breath before he could hear his boots on the floor as he returned to her side.

“…The evidence for it is… strong.” Qui-Gon said quietly even as Tahl refused to lift her head from her hands because _Force_.

If what they thought were true, and it was really looking that way, then how could something like this have been missed for so _long_?

And that also meant that they could _not_ contact knight Shkma.

Never alert a potential abuser that they may have been discovered and Tahl felt despair settle into her bones at that thought.

They may have a child abuser on their hands and it had not been noticed until now.

Force.


	3. Not to plan

The thing about Jedi missions is that they almost _never_ go as planned.

It always goes square somewhere its just a matter of how badly things goes or how big the mistakes are.

This time it goes severely wrong as Obi-Wan ends up with a broken leg, whimpering silently in pain as he tries to deflect blasters with Jinn at his back working on the computer as they fight to prevent a nuclear launch.

He can hear Bant with her master somewhere down the hall with the second launch and he knows they are reaching a conclusion, a good one because Bant’s relief mingled with joy reaches them even from the distance.

His arms tremble as the last mercenary falls and slowly he deactivates his saber while panting out air, hearing Jinn finish of the sequence and shut it down behind him on the terminal.

Launch aborted.

Breathing out, Obi-Wan doesn’t catch the boots on the floor and is therefor unaware of Jinn until the mans hand lands on his shoulder. “Well done pada-” The praise gets cut off as Obi-Wan flinches from the touch, his left arm half up to protect his head as the two stare at each other, both wide eyed.

And then Jinn’s eyes curve with… sadness?

Obi-Wan blinks.

He expected anger. That’s what Olliander always responded with…

“I had hoped I was wrong,” Jinn said softly, his voice deep as he slowly came up once more and settled with care onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the sixteen year old trembling beneath the warm hand both from waning adrenaline, growing fear and pain. “We don’t have as much time here but please believe me when I say this padawan Kenobi, what your master has done to you is _wrong_. You never strike a padawan in anger, _never,_ ” He empathized before pulling his hand away to offer his arm for Obi-Wan to lean on. “I can’t do anything about your leg right now and I highly doubt you’ll let me carry you with how fast your heart is beating, so this is the best I can offer.” Jinn smiled sadly as they both heard Bant close the distance to them.

Hesitating, confused and scared, Obi-Wan slowly tucked his saber to his belt before taking the arm, glancing between it and the man.

“…But I’m stupid?” Obi-Wan whispered. “I needed discipline?” He wished his voice was more convincing as each word came out as a question.

Jinn’s clear blue eyes seemed to swim with sympathy and sadness. “To strike in anger is not discipline. Its maliciousness and cruelty,” He said with steady conviction in his voice. “Not even my master, Yan Dooku ever struck me as discipline.”

Ever more confused as Bant cried out in delight for their survival then gasped in worry at Obi-Wan’s state the redhead looked down at his feet, forehead furrowed with turmoil. ‘But… Olliander… he’s my master and he said I needed discipline, I was too loud, too stupid.’ He limped while holding onto Jinn’s arm, clenching it in his grip while trying not to lean too much on the master.

Over his head, Jinn traded a sad look with a resigned Tahl, the two masters coming to a silent understanding as Obi-Wan didn’t even make a noise of pain despite his broken leg that he walked on.


	4. As suspected

Staring out the cockpit window since he had offered the pilot to take over so the lady could rest some, Qui-Gon stared at the stars for long moments without really seeing them at all as they were approaching the hyperlanes.

He was however aware enough to smile when Tahl entered the cockpit with two mugs in hand, accepting one gratefully before turning his eyes back to the stars.

Neither said anything, choosing to sip the soup that both warmed and nourished before Qui-Gon sighed deeply and looked at the dark skinned woman. “Well?” He questioned.

“Fully broken. That he managed to walk on it at all is nothing short of a miracle or pure stubbornness,” She hesitated a bit before adding. “Or determination through _fear_.” Tahl said softly, sitting down in the co-pilot seat.

“Thought as much,” Qui-Gon returned his eyes to the stars. “…He flinched from me when I tried to touch his shoulder and praise him, lifted his arm up to cover his head.” He whispered and Tahl almost dropped her cup in shock.

Even though they suspected it to the point that they were rather sure, it was still horrifying and painful to have even more.

She swallowed heavily before whispering. “His leg is covered in bruises. He seemed terrified to pull up his pant leg to show me his injury. I think if Obi-Wan could, he would have bolted from me.” Tahl sighed deeply, feeling emotionally and mentally worn out as she just dropped back into the chair with her cup, almost sloshing soup over the rim.

Qui-Gon rumbled at that, adjusting some of the console control before making the jump into hyperspace.

With that done he too slumped back in his chair with a little more grace than his friend.

For several minutes neither said a thing and just focused on sipping their soup before Tahl sighed and looked to the other Jedi. “Did you manage to send of a message to Master Koon?” She asked quietly, humming when Qui-Gon nodded. “Good, at least they’ll be ready when we arrive. We’ll more than likely be meet by council members in the hanger and healers.” Her face twisted.

She’d seen this once before, a knight caught in abusing their padawan, when they had returned from mission the knight and padawan had been quickly separated under the pretense of the padawan requiring some kind of emergency hypospray shot set and the councilor took the knight away only for the Sentinels to drag her away once the padawan was out of sight and danger from the master.

Tahl had been young then.

“Yan could be stern when I was his padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured. “He’s an older master and trained by Yoda but his punishments would never include striking me or physical pain for such a purpose. Extra chores? Yes. Essays on why I should not have done what I did, of course and even meditation. But he never struck me for the purpose of discipline,” He breathed out heavily. “That this knight Shkma would dare to…” He trailed off, incensed.

Tahl just sighed, finishing off her cup. “I know.” She whispered heavily.

Frowning into his cup, Qui-Gon looked at her again. “Wait, should we warn Obi-Wan? Won’t he be upset when the healers and council members meet us in the hanger?” He questioned.

Hesitating, Tahl finally shook her head. “No, they’ll have a plausible explanation, his leg.” She settled on.

Frowning still, Qui-Gon slowly nodded and finished his own cup.

Neither heard the quiet steps of the sole mon calamari with her hands pressed over her mouth and wide, teary eyes as she made her way back to the lounge, Bant’s shoulders shaking as she observed her friend sleeping in the corner with his back to the wall and both his legs, even his injured one, pulled up to his chest.

‘Poor Obi-Wan!’


	5. Limbo

Tucking silvering chestnut strands behind an ear, Qui-Gon glanced down at the padawans as Bant carefully helped Obi-Wan walk as the other didn’t trust the adults to help him at all. Something told Qui-Gon that the mon calamari overheard him and Tahl speak about Obi-Wan’s situation but so far Bant was keeping it to herself even if she was behaving a bit more carefully around Obi-Wan.

Nothing too obvious.

But she was avoiding too abrupt movements around the other padawan and was quick to offer her arm or shoulder for the redhead to lean on.

The moment they had come into orbit and reached out they had a missive from the council which informed them that Knight Shkma was taken into custody by the Sentinels and that Obi-Wan was to be brought in front of the healers instantly where he would be looked over and healed first and then questioned by the waiting council masters in the Hall.

From the sounds of it, Qui-Gon guessed it would be Yoda, Jocasta Nu and Plo Koon if he guessed correctly but he would have to wait to see when they arrived. He was relieved to see the hoverchair waiting for them in the hanger though at their docking station and watched Bant lead Obi-Wan right over to it and help him settle into it. “Do you want me to push it Obi-Wan?” She asked quickly, carefully but subtly trying to push the apprentice healer out of the way.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at her a bit but gave a shrug. “I don’t mind if you want to…”

‘She’s becoming more obvious, Obi-Wan is obviously becoming suspicious but no matter. We are at the temple again.’ Qui-Gon thought to himself, tucking his hands into his sleeve as he followed both the padawan healer and the padawans, Tahl one step behind him again. ‘He’ll never have to worry about being hit again by knight Shkma.’

Obviously Tahl caught onto his train of thought because she placed one hand on his shoulder, squeezing down tightly with an assuring smile on her gorgeous face.

Smiling dryly in return, Qui-Gon hoped for fair winds for Obi-Wan and safety.

And more than any of that, happiness.

()()()

Sitting on the sterile bed feeling shell shocked, Obi-Wan wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself as he stared at the white wall of the room.

His mind was buzzing with confusion, with sad eyes and worried whispers but he couldn’t quite…

Knight Shkma, his master, had apparently been taken in by the Sentinels because what he had been doing to Obi-Wan was not legal, not by the Republic laws and not by the Jedi’s internal laws for raising padawans.

Master Jinn had not been incorrect.

But now Obi-Wan was thrown out into limbo, uncertain about what came next or _who_.

Shaking a bit, he pulled the blanket even more tightly around himself as he purposely ignored the fact that the healers, with his permission, had taken several holo images of old scars and bruises left on Obi-Wan’s body.

Especially the large saber carved words in his lower back that read ‘weak’ in Galactic basic.

He’d been fourteen and had failed his masters first survival test, a barren world with next to no food and no water…

Obi-Wan had passed out, proving his weakness to the knight.

Or so Shkma had always said.

After the last few weeks…

Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure anymore.

Pressing his face into his knees which pulled on his back scars painfully, Obi-Wan let out a hitched sob before going utterly quiet as he cried against his legs. 


	6. A special hand

Lifting his head from his knees when the door opened, Obi-Wan wondered tiredly if the council members were back to ask questions or if it was the healers again only to tense up when he saw Bant and Garen stand there.

Both sported expression of…

Well they looked lost.

It wasn't better when Reeft and Quinlan suddenly peered over their shoulders at him and Obi-Wan wrapped his arms even more tighter around his knees, for once his back not hurting him in the position since the healers had been working at the scar tissue of his lower back.

For a second none of them said anything until Garen’s face fell and he scuttled over quickly, crawling into the bed and hugging his old creche friend tightly, pressing his temple to Obi-Wan’s. “I’m not gonna ask anything and I’ll leave if you say it Obi-Wan, but we’re here for you.” He whispered.

Obi-Wan let out a little hiccuping noise, shaking as the other three crawled onto the bed too, wrapping Obi-Wan up in a hug that demanded nothing and only offered comfort to the damaged padawan.

Somehow that evolved into all five of them on two mattresses on the floor that Obi-Wan did not remember being brought in along with several blankets and pillows in a reminiscence of their creche days when they sometimes slept in piles for comfort.

Obi-Wan especially with his vision related nightmares.

Even Bant pressed against his back didn’t bother him that much because it was _Bant_ , his friend and fellow padawan and there was no one in the entire galaxy he ever felt as safe with as her.

Honestly with any of them.

Sniffling a bit, he clenched his hands into Quinlan’s tunic, trembling faintly as he resisted the urge to cry even as they tightened their hold on him with both Reeft and Garen hands tightening on his waist where their hands rested so they could all be in contact.

“I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan whispered, no idea what he was even saying sorry for anymore.

Quinlan just made a quiet hushing noise and Bant pressed closer to Obi-Wan as he clenched his eyes shut.

“You’re gonna be alright Obi-Wan.” Bant whispered, her forehead pressed to Obi-Wan’s neck and for the first time in years… Obi-Wan believed that he would.

Maybe he would be alright.

()()()

Sitting with his head in his hands, Mace let out a sharp breath. “How in Force name did we miss this?” He asked huskily as he slowly raised his head to look at the image of Kenobi’s lower back.

Carved along the lower spine the word ‘weak’ was written onto the boys skin, a lightsaber used to it and Mace could feel nausea rise inside him once more as he considered just how it must have been done.

In response to pain, all creatures tend to recoil.

That meant that Olliander Shkma had kept Obi-Wan still, frozen him with the Force and then carved the boys back up.

At the age of _fourteen_.

One of Obi-Wan’s earliest lessons with his master had been to fear him beyond anything and no one had noticed, no one had seen the abuse of one of their own by one of their own and Mace didn’t know what that said about them all but he wanted to get throw himself on his knees in front of the boy and beg for his forgiveness.

Would have if he thought it would actually help but he didn’t think Kenobi would respond well to it at all.

There was a deep sigh from his left, Jocasta looking worn out as she stared at the holo image of the boys back too. “Olliander Shkma standard length of temple stay was a week if that most of the time, usually taking his padawan with him for months on end into active war zones and supposed ‘training’ expeditions. We missed this because they were rarely here, we rarely saw padawan Kenobi… and because we have become blind to the Jedi we send out.” She said slowly.

Conceding that Jocasta may have a point, Mace rubbed at his bald head. “Still, that child has gone through the garbage compactor at this point. How are we suppose to help him now?” He asked with some desperation. From what the healers said, that padawan was damaged from the inside out and he would require a special, delicate hand that did not outright coddle him and yet understood the nature of… of…

His eyes narrowed. The nature of abuse and care for someone abused, hmm…

“A thought you had Master Mace?” Yoda asked quietly, seemingly utterly tired.

“Padawan Kenobi is going to require a… special sort of hand in the coming years if he is to become better, to heal,” Mace said slowly, glancing about. “The sort of hand that is used to putting his hand in an injured nexus cub cage and getting a friend out of it.” He watched realization cross several faces.

“We would have to convince him,” Sifo frowned. “He hasn’t taken a padawan in ages, not since Du Crion Fell.” He grunted.

“But Mace is right,” Plo threw his card in. “If anyone could handle padawan Kenobi without coddling him, it would be Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon is already familiar with the situation even if he may lack the details now.”

Yoda firmly tapped his cane on his chair. “Then convince Qui-Gon we will. For Obi-Wan’s sake.” He said with conviction.

Now came the difficult part, to actually convince the man.


	7. No battle, no need

There’s no fight.

The council presents their case to Qui-Gon but he doesn’t hear beyond ‘we want you to take padawan Kenobi under your guidance.’ of their well intended and well formulated argument why Qui-Gon should take the boy.

Because Qui-Gon isn’t going to fight.

Not because he feels ready for a padawan or necessarily wants one of course but because Obi-Wan does not deserve to look back and find that he had to be _fought_ to be taken on as a padawan by someone else.

No, what Obi-Wan deserves, what he _needs_ is to be taken in with care and shielded from the rest of the world for a while as he recovers from all the damage the former Jedi Knight has done to the padawan.

‘Force, I barely even scratched the surface have I.’ Qui-Gon thought heavily to himself while blankly staring slightly above Yoda’s head as Mace continued speaking, most likely all the reasons Qui-Gon should take Obi-Wan on.

Good reasons likely.

If Qui-Gon was paying attention and wasn’t thinking that is.

But that was just it, Qui-Gon was thinking.

Thinking of all the things he would need, things he would have to change, how long he would have to remain in the temple for Obi-Wan’s health, both the physical and mental one.

Oh Qui-Gon was sure that Obi-Wan would have a well of health problems but it was the ones they couldn’t see that worried him the most.

The ones below the surface and buried in the boys mind.

‘And maybe,’ A cynical edge of his mind whispered. ‘Maybe Shkma’s abuse did not remain just at an emotional, physical and verbal, maybe it extended even further?’ Qui-Gon could feel his stomach drop at the thought, cold ice along his spine as he wondered if the abuse went as far as sexual.

Nausea rolled in at the consideration and he mentally reviewed his interaction with Obi-Wan in as close of a detail as he could.

Nothing really screamed of that kind of abuse but who knew, his hands had always remained high, the touches brief and Obi-Wan had done his best to hide the evidence of his suffered abuse because that’s what he had been taught.

He had been taught fear, subterfuge and secrecy.

Oh there would be so much to do for Obi-Wan, so many things to gently ease him into.

“…Qui-Gon?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, finding the entire Council staring uncertainly at him. “Oh, apologies, when can I pick up Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked.

They blinked in return before exchanging looks before Jocasta finally shook herself. “Now if you wish though I imagine you’d need a few hours or a day to get your quarters ready or even move since I’m not sure you have a suitable apartment. The healers are keeping him as they don’t want him to go back to his old quarters but the physiological effects of getting a safe space would be beneficial to him they say.” She trailed off.

Qui-Gon hummed, nodding as he rubbed his chin. “I do have a single quarters, you’re right in that. So tomorrow then, I’ll pick him up tomorrow.” He mused out loud.

There was some silence before Plo let out a relieved breath. “I thought we’d have to argue with you honestly Qui-Gon.” He smiled at him, “I’m glad we were wrong.”

Glancing at the other master, Qui-Gon shrugged. “Young Obi-Wan doesn’t need that, he will eventually wonder about this meeting and he doesn’t need to find that resistance and a fight on him. What he needs is someone happy to take him. I will.”

How far apart weren’t Obi-Wan and Xanatos really and for a moment Qui-Gon tried to imagine the dark haired raven in Obi-Wan’s shoes.

It almost made him shudder for he could feel the darkness of this imaginary Xanatos. That Obi-Wan had remained light was a miracle.

Now he needed help and Qui-Gon would do his best. ‘Like taking in an abused cub, I hope I’m enough for him.’ He bowed to the council. “I will need to go speak to the quartermasters, excuse me masters.” He murmured, dismissing himself and heading out.

He had a padawan to prepare for.


	8. Welcome home

Looking around his new quarters once more to ensure everything was in its right place, Qui-Gon crossed his arms over his chest and let out a deep breath.

So he was really doing this, he was getting a padawan for real.

An injured, most likely to bite him padawan.

That thought had him snorting and inwardly he scolded himself that Padawan Ken-no, Obi-Wan, the boy was now _his_ padawan so he had to get used to the first name and not the last name. He still scolded himself that Obi-Wan was no injured baby krayt dragon or nexus cub.

‘But he still might bite, though not in the traditional sense of the word. He’s going to need to test the limits once he feels safe with me in how I’ll put up with and how I’m different from Shkma.’ Qui-Gon was reminded of the horisma tiger cub he had once taken in years ago as a fresh knight, its hind paws mangled.

It had been not been an angry thing but scared, lashed out each time Qui-Gon’s hands got close to him and often attacked Qui-Gon’s legs in the first week he looked after the cub.

Just so scared, hurting and away from its mother.

He even still had the scars on his calf from its first leg bite.

But… after that first week it had gotten the message, had stopped clawing Qui-Gon up and allowed the Jedi to steadily care for damaged flesh but remained tense and wary of him the entire time.

By the end of the month stay that cub had been downright friendly, had tried to groom Qui-Gon more than once.

Humans were not the same as injured animals in that they were craftier about it and their reactions could be a lot worse.

And yet at the same time they were the same.

Wary, scared, anger to cover or protect, lashing out with ‘claws’ to protect themselves though with humans they could be words as much as actions.

Oh Qui-Gon fully expected Obi-Wan to bite him just like the cub had done.

And yet he was startled to realize he did not fear Obi-Wan falling to the dark, did not fear Obi-Wan becoming Xanatos at all.

He only worried about the redhead lashing out to cover his scars and try to deny what had been done to him.

Oh Force, did Qui-Gon already trust the boy?

Closing his eyes while breathing out, Qui-Gon examined his thoughts and then relaxed.

No, trust was the wrong word but he knew where the difference was, that was it, didn’t fear Obi-Wan falling for Darkness at all.

Trust would take time for both of them, especially Obi-Wan.

Honestly if Obi-Wan could ever trust an adult in the temple again Qui-Gon would be amazed considering how oblivious the rest of the temple had been to the abuse happening beneath their nose. Had Obi-Wan ever gone for help at all only to be brushed off?

Stars Qui-Gon hoped not.

That would add another level of horror to it and another level of scars to Obi-Wan’s already tormented mind.

He hoped that if the boy had gone for help that something would have been done or at least maybe the Jedi in question hadn’t lived long enough to inform the council as gruesome as that thought was. Yet it was better than the idea of Obi-Wan having been brushed aside and dismissed.

‘…Time to collect my new padawan.’ Qui-Gon felt a smile cross his face at the thought, slightly stunned at his own thought before he turned and slipped out to head to the Halls.

For every step he feels his heart lodge somewhere high in his throat, beating so harsh he worries the entire galaxy can hear it when he finally stops in front of the medical room that has belonged to Obi-Wan.

He knocks gently and enters once bid, giving the redhead a small smile when he peers up at Qui-Gon in surprise from where he is sitting on the bed with a homework related pad on his lap. Yes he imagines Obi-Wan hasn’t seen many lately outside of the council, healers and his friends.

“Hello Padawan Kenobi,” He greeted gently, gesturing to the bed. “May I sit?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Obi-Wan shifted, pulling his sheet out of the way along with another pad though this one looked personal if the stickers on the back of it meant anything.

Maybe a loan from another?

Qui-Gon had difficulty imaging Shkma letting Obi-Wan have the stickers on a pad, not after having seen the empty padawan room Obi-Wan had used to inhabit when he had gone with Micah to pick up clothes.

Settling, Qui-Gon kept his smile mild while resting his hands in his lap. “I imagine you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” He said, smile growing a bit when Obi-Wan gave a nervous nod. “Well, the council approached me yesterday. They requested that I consider taking you on as a padawan,” He watched closely, watched both panic and hope flash of in Obi-Wan’s eyes before the teen could hide it. “I said yes, but only if you say yes.” Qui-Gon said quietly.

Actually Obi-Wan was suppose to go with him but… Qui-Gon felt like giving the other the choice would be better.

After a moment Obi-Wan hesitantly spoke up. “Are you… are you sure about this…? I’m not a good padawa-” He went mute when Qui-Gon raised a hand though the older man made sure only to raise it to about mid chest level not to trigger a protective or fright reaction.

“I saw you on our mission padawan Kenobi… Obi-Wan,” He amended softly, watching the others eyes water a bit. “You were a wonderful padawan, a student in learning. You were skilled, driven and did everything right. You were unfortunately injured but that happens and if you accept me, we will work even more on your saber skills for your protection and others too of course.” Qui-Gon rumbled out before holding out his hand with palm up.

An offer.

Obi-Wan stared at it, his eyes still watering though no tears fell and that made Qui-Gon feel angry deep in the recesses of his mind, that Shkma had taught Obi-Wan not to cry in fear of punishment.

Slowly, hesitantly, Obi-Wan reached out in return, his rather cold hand slowly touching Qui-Gon’s palm before grasping the hand and looking at Qui-Gon, blinking which caused the tears to slide down bared cheeks.

Qui-Gon just smiled and squeezed the hand in his grasp. “We’ll make things right. Its time to come home Obi-Wan.” He said softly before standing and taking the two pads with his free hand as he carefully guided Obi-Wan onto wobbling feet that the boy slid into his slippers before making his way towards the door.

Neither let go of the others hand, Obi-Wan seeking assurance and Qui-Gon more than willing to provide it.

‘Welcome home Obi-Wan.’


	9. The expected and the unexpected

Glancing between the plate in front of him and the man at the opposite side of the table, Obi-Wan swallowed heavily.

The plate had two different cut up fruits, pear and a type of melon along with a light omelet and something Obi-Wan thought was a hashbrown with bits of pork in it.

There was even a cupcake sat in front of the plate, waiting. It looked good, it was white so most likely vanilla and it had a pink glaze that was shiny and looked utterly innocent sitting there in front of Obi-Wan’s plate this first day as Qui-Gon Jinn’s padawan.

And it was terrifying Obi-Wan.

Olliander had sometimes done this too, made a proper meal and waited to see how long Obi-Wan could last before he begged for the food.

Depending on how long it took, Obi-Wan would either get punished or he would be given some of the food as a reward and the time period for waiting always changed, always got longer regardless of how starving Obi-Wan was.

Qui-Gon had seemed kind all through the mission, kind when he asked Obi-Wan to be his padawan.

But now he _was_ the man’s padawan.

Had it all been…

Was it a ploy?

He had been taken from one master where he knew what to expect and given to another that had treated him well but that was before he became Obi-Wan’s master an-

“Do you like tea?”

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up from the cupcake to look at his new master, the man standing by the fridge where he was waiting on a pot to boil to add the water to the teapot instead. “I-I’m sorry master?” He stammered out.

He received a gentle smile in return.

Disarming.

It was hard to not relax at the sight of it, Olliander had certainly not smiled at him like that even in public. “Tea Obi-Wan, I’m making sapir tea, one of my favorites but it would be easy to add enough to make for two if you want some too.”

Uncertainly, Obi-Wan twisted his bandaged hands together before giving a quick, nervous nod. “I like tea, I never had sapir though,” He said quietly. “The refractory only serves black tea.”

To that he got an understanding hum. “Well if its not to your liking than that is fine, I have other sorts too since I get guests who don’t enjoy sapir.” Qui-Gon chuckled.

It was a deep brogue… warm.

Glancing down at the plate, Obi-Wan slowly took one of the melon slices and bit into it, warily glancing up to see where his new master was only to find the mans back to him as he lifted the pot. He wasn’t even paying attention to Obi-Wan!

Quickly he took another bite.

He didn’t see Qui-Gon’s relieved eyes focused on him in the window of the kitchen, the Jedi master managing to keep an eye on him even with his back turned on him.

()()()

Watching the boy eat, even as carefully as he was, Qui-Gon couldn’t help but feel relief.

The moment the boy had come out of his bedroom he had been all but on edge but now he was slowly starting to relax as he ate his breakfast from the pre-approved list from the healers to help Obi-Wan regain both muscle mass and weight.

It was obvious what Obi-Wan expected or at least it was to Qui-Gon who knew the situation.

Obi-Wan expected Qui-Gon to be like Shkma.

To beat him, to starve him and punish him unjustly.

‘I can’t ask him yet about what Shkma has done to him. Force I need to get this boy to a mind hea-oh no… I need to get him to a mind healer.’ Qui-Gon swallowed heavily, staring at the teapot Tahl had once given him so long ago, taking in the details of loth cats playing in tiny green details on the clay pot.

If he wanted Obi-Wan to go to the healers then… Qui-Gon would have to go forward with a good example himself.

He would finally have to go to the mind healers too.

‘…He needs help. I’ll help him and if that means I too have to go to the healers then so be it.’ He nodded firmly to himself before turning around with a smile on his face. “Now sapir can be an acquired taste I admit. Its a green tea with a strong aromatic, some find it… soapy, especially if not made correctly.” He confessed as he brought the pot over and poured first for Obi-Wan and then himself.

Obi-Wan clearly noticed that, visible confusion for a few moments before he slowly picked up the cup to sniff it.

Surprise bloomed in his eyes before he took a deeper whiff of it, eyes slowly closing with his shoulders fully relaxing.

‘…That’s right Obi-Wan. Its okay. You’re safe here with me and I’ll spend the rest of eternity to prove it to you if I have to.’ Qui-Gon smiled, sitting down for his own breakfast and morning tea.


	10. Panic attack

The hands had come down on his shoulders so suddenly from behind, pinning him into place, smacking into scar tissue on his left one and covering both his shoulders while gripping tightly.

That was enough.

It didn’t matter he was in the salle, it didn’t matter that master Micah was a friend of master Qui-Gon, that the move was meant kindly to re-position him for the next kata master Micah was showing the class and it didn’t matter that everyone would see him.

Obi-Wan’s legs instantly folded on him, dropping him to his knees where he curled over them and his arms went over his head, the tissue of his lower back a distant pain for him as his body prepared for what his mind expected.

A distant roar was in his ears and Obi-Wan’s breath was coming out in shaky but slow breaths.

But…

Nothing was happening.

The roar was still in his ear but outside of his back pain from the scar…

“Obi-Wan.”

Master Qui-Gon’s voice, gentle hands touching his upper back with only the fingertips rubbing lightly. “Obi-Wan its alright. You need to breath properly now, don't hold your breath, don't take shallow breaths.” The man rumbled out.

Taking a hitching breath, Obi-Wan trembled but listened to the deep voice, reminding himself how many chances the other had to hurt him and had yet to.

“That’s it, try again Obi-Wan, another breath padawan,” Qui-Gon continued speaking and Obi-Wan managed another hitching breath against his leggings, trembling heavily. “Can I place my hands on your shoulders Obi-Wan?”

Hiccuping sharply Obi-Wan sat stock still.

“Its alright if I can’t Obi-Wan. You’re still healing.” Qui-Gon continued, keeping only his fingertips on Obi-Wan to rub gently and Obi-Wan suddenly realized that the other was using his Force subtly to sooth and heal.

Helping.

Helping Obi-Wan and not hurting. Not angry or upset or groping or…

He let out a sharp sob, full of desperation and uncertainty before he uncurled, throwing himself forward into Qui-Gon, throwing his arms around the older mans shoulders to cling to the man as tightly as he could while hiding in his shoulder, giving a sobbing cry.

Arms wrapped around him, cupping him to the warm and hard body as Qui-Gon held him and suddenly Obi-Wan wasn’t sixteen but twelve and in need of one of the crechemaster’s hugs after a bad dream. He was eight and had been pushed by Bruck down in the creche. He was three and had his first vision of blood and fire in the sky.

()()()

Rocking the boy who had gone totally lax in his arms, Qui-Gon breathed out heavily and looked up at Micah to see the others sorry look, giving him a weak smile in return as he slowly stood with Obi-Wan in his arms.

He ignored anyone who was staring, anyone who couldn’t keep their karking eyes to themselves and instead just held the now calmly breathing boy that was still sobbing quietly as Qui-Gon made his way for the doors to get Obi-Wan back to their quarters.

Get him home again to where the boy felt safe.

“Its alright Obi-Wan, I have you, I promise I have you.” He murmured quietly into the others ear, feeling a light shiver and the tightening of the redhead’s arms around him.

He ignored those he saw in the halls, ignored the ones staring, ignored them all because Obi-Wan needed him and he was damned if he was going to let Obi-Wan experience any more pain than he had to.

He was going to be a hell of a better master than Olliander Shkma had ever attempted to be.


	11. Uneeded cruelty

Pressed into the alcove, Obi-Wan shredded his lips as he listened to the gossiping group of fellow padawans and normally he wouldn’t but they were talking about _him_.

“I can’t believe Kenobi just folded like that in training. Did you see Master Jinn carry him out?” One of them said, a slightly high pitched voice.

There was a deep snort. “Force everyone saw that Duncan. I can’t believe Oafy-Wan became a padawan. Chun was right, he should have just been sent to be a farmer.” There was a snigger.

“He certainly would have fit in better there,” A third agreed. “I can’t believe master _Jinn_ of everyone took him on, that man is a legend. He’s obviously not right in the head if Kenobi ever was right.”

There was a deep hum. “Wasn’t Kenobi Knight’ Shkma’s padawan though? Where is Knight Shkma, he sometimes taught dueling when he was in the temple and I haven’t heard of any funerals lately.” Someone asked curiously.

The first voice gave a loud snort. “I bet he gave up on Kenobi cause he’s such a dunce.”

There was some scattered laughs even as Obi-Wan slowly slid down the wall, tears soaking down his face.

He knew it, he was such a failure, he should just leave the temple and never come back. No one in their right mind would make him a knight even if he managed to pass the trials and Qui-Gon would see that soon too and than everyone would know just how worthle-

“I do hope,” A quiet, deep and by now familiar voice said in an incensed tone. “That this level of cruelty is not common among padawans.”

Obi-Wan froze, staring towards the opening of the alcove.

“Master Jinn!” A obviously panicked voice said. “We were-”

“I will be informing all your masters about your cruelty leveled towards a fellow padawan you know nothing of and if I were any of you, I would ask myself if your level of ‘compassion’ is suitable for a Jedi to be because believe me, your behavior shames yourselves. Now go.” Qui-Gon snapped.

There was a quick mutter of ‘yes master’ followed by hurried steps of boots walking away as Obi-Wan pressed himself against the wall even as the padawans came past the alcove. For a moment nothing else happened until Qui-Gon appeared in the opening, smiling sadly as he crouched down with a handkerchief in his hand.

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite avoid flinching even as his tears were wiped but Qui-Gon made no mention of it, gently wiping each of them off Obi-Wan’s skin until his face was dry.

“When you didn’t arrive from your healer appointment I got worried,” Qui-Gon said quietly as he tucked the handkierchief into his sleeve. “So I came looking for you in case you were lost.” He offered Obi-Wan his hands.

Staring at them, Obi-Wan slowly took them and let his master pull him up, twitching a bit when he heard a snap.

Blinking, he looked from Qui-Gon’s face, which had done a little spasm, to his knees and back up again.

Qui-Gon smiled sheepishly to him. “I’m not so young. You’ll find when you get older that your body will make a lot of creaking noises.” He chuckled a bit, seemingly embarrassed as Obi-Wan tried to find balance in the man being… playful.

‘Shkma never talked to me like this. Maybe… maybe he was wrong? Maybe those padawans were wrong? This is Master Qui-Gon _Jinn_ , a negotiator sought out by planets, specially requested, revered for his skills in both negotiation and dueling. He… he can’t be wrong about me can he?’ Obi-Wan thought uncertainly even as he took a tiny step closer to the man. “I was just… I heard them talking about me.” He admitted.

An annoyed grimace crossed Qui-Gon’s face and instinctively Obi-Wan’s shoulders tensed, preparing for a blow but the man wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at the alcove opening. “I have no idea how that kind of cruelty has managed to slip by unnoticed but I’ll be certainly speaking to both the council and the masters of the padawans.” Qui-Gon said, his tone unhappy before he turned his attention back to Obi-Wan, his countenance softening. “Now, how about we get to our quarters? Padawan Eerin told me you used to to enjoy puff pastries and I managed to get my hands on a few for dessert.” He gestured, stepping out of the alcove with his hand held out to Obi-Wan.

For a moment Obi-Wan stood there in the dark, staring at the others hand before he slowly took it, holding onto the large hand with what must be an uncomfortable pressure.

But Qui-Gon just smiled at him, drawing Obi-Wan into the light.


	12. Kinder future

“He’s not really asleep.”

Looking up from the boy quickly, Shaak raised her brows at the human. “I’m sorry?” She whispered.

“Obi-Wan, he’s not really asleep,” Qui-Gon repeated, stirring the powdered tea she preferred into the water with a deep sigh. “At least not true sleep, he knows that you’re here even now and he’s in this semi meditation mixed with sleep that he’s somehow managed to develop while with that bastard of a former master.” He held out the cup to her, a bitter smile on his face. “I’d call it impressive if it wasn’t so damn heart breaking.”

Blinking as she took the cup, Shaak’s lekku’s twitched. “I…see. He never truly relaxes does he?” She glanced back at the boy on the couch, not able to call him sleeping anymore even in her head now that she knew.

Mixing up his own cup, Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh. “Sometimes. I can feel him sleeping deeply when he’s in his room and his bedroom door is locked. He’s managed to fall asleep in the beanbag I got him too,” He gestured with the spoon towards a dark blue beanbag over in a corner with a lamp. “But never when there’s someone other than me in the room. He just… can’t.” Qui-Gon set down the spoon and picked up his cup, moving to the doorway to lean against the opposite one from her.

They both observed Obi-Wan.

“He can’t trust anyone subconsciously,” Shaak noted sadly. “Even now his mind can’t let down the barriers he’s built because Shkma has made him afraid and ashamed of all that he is.” Her lekkus curled with disgust and her stomach rolled with nausea.

This was not the way a master was suppose to behave, this was not what was suppose to happen with their young.

Force, it was just so wrong.

Qui-Gon nodded mutely before turning a weary face towards her as he blew on the tea. “He barely trusts me these days let alone others and I had to work for every little piece of trust,”  The master murmured. “Tell there’s something being done about the padawans I discovered?” He half changed the subject, moving on from Obi-Wan to the roots of where the problem started.

Nodding, Shaak took a sip of the tea, enjoying the meaty flavor of the tea. “The council is speaking to the creche masters and the teachers on rotation. We have discovered… issues we weren’t aware of,” She sighed deeply. “Its being dealt with though, by professionals.”

Apparently the issue of bullying was a lot deeper than the council was aware of, that was what they got for being so far away and Yoda had been surprised until the creche masters had pointed out that teaching the youngest of them didn’t mean he had an eye on those who were older and became bad seeds.

Having favorites did blind one to the others they pointed out cautiously, not outright saying that Yoda had singled out a few that were his favorites yet still implying it.

Shaak wondered about that, wondered about the young in their creche.

And she knew that there were new rules being worked out for the bullying aspect though that was left to the prerogative of the creche masters working with the children therapists that they had been allowed to hire to work with on new plans.

Honestly, Shaak didn’t know enough about young children to feel comfortable in giving any advice and it was clear that there were similar opinions among the other masters on the council.

“Thank the Force…” Qui-Gon muttered, distracting Shaak from her thoughts though she quickly summoned herself in as she realized the other was commenting on the fact that something was being done.

“What about Obi-Wan, those scars on his back…” She trailed off, shivering a bit as she remembered the letters carved into the boys spine, old looking and painful.

“Surgery, the healers are preparing him for surgery to ease his mobility and pain.” Qui-Gon smiled sadly. “He’s going to have quite a few surgeries honestly, none which I am at liberty to discuss without his say so even though you know about the letters that’s been carved into his skin.” He sighed deeply with a worn look once more making its place on his face.

Raising one hand while holding the cup in the other, Shaak signaled her understanding.

Force knew if it was her as Obi-Wan’s master she would guard his secrets like hrosma tiger guards her cubs.

“I wish him all the best Qui-Gon. I promise you, I will not pry into this.” She murmured softly, receiving a weak smile as they both went back to observing the redhead tucked up in fetal position on the couch, his breath slow and steady but his body too tense to be true sleep.

Yes… she could see what Qui-Gon meant that Obi-Wan was not truly asleep, not even then did this boy feel safe around others.

‘May the Force be kinder to your future Obi-Wan Kenobi, for you have a long way to go.’ 


	13. Breakthrough

Shaking, eyes wide, Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon as his master stared back in stunned shock.

Between them a cup laid on the floor, its content spilled with Obi-Wan holding Qui-Gon by his wrist, thumb and pinkie wrapped around the wrist as the rest were pressed into the older mans palm.

It was those three that were the important part.

For Obi-Wan had infused his grasp with the Force and Qui-Gon’s entire arm was now numb thanks to it being focused on the nerve system of the hand.

He hadn’t meant it, he had just been so startled, Qui-Gon had come out of nowhere seemingly with a cup and-and Obi-Wan had just…

Shaking harder as he seemed incapable to let go of the others hand, Obi-Wan tried to say something only to flinch when Qui-Gon slowly knelt down by the beanbag that was ‘Obi-Wan’s’ apparently.

This couldn’t be okay, Obi-Wan had attacked his own master, they would have to punis-

“Shhh, its alright Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said and Obi-Wan let out a gasp, staring at his master as he started to shake almost violently.

“I-I didn’t… I was startled… I didn’t see you mov-” He stammered out only to flinch when Qui-Gon raised his other hand, the ingrained habits of living with pain and suffering manifesting itself as always.

A raised hand had not meant anything good to Obi-Wan for a long while and yet…

“Shhh,” Qui-Gon repeated, his hand resting on Obi-Wan’s head where it started to tenderly rub. That wasn’t what Obi-Wan expected, he was holding his master’s numb hand because he lashed out! Qui-Gon couldn’t honestly mean that this was okay! “I startled you, I made assumptions that you could hear and see me and didn’t announce myself. Its alright, you haven’t really harmed me, its only an inconvenience.” Qui-Gon murmured while rubbing.

Mouth opening and closing, Obi-Wan struggled to find words before just letting out a small sob, his body going willingly when the hand moved from his head to Obi-Wan’s back instead to pull him into a hug, Qui-Gon muttering quiet nonsense in that deep voice of his in what was meant to be a soothing motion.

Sobbing into the mans tunic where everything smelled of tea, Obi-Wan tried to gasp out apologies as he clung to the others lax hand, feeling the other wrapped tightly around him while rubbing slowly. ‘Is… is this what its like to feel safe?’

()()()

Its a vulnerable thing to let oneself cry in front of someone and that’s just what Obi-Wan is doing, expelling his feelings with each quiet sob against Qui-Gon’s chest as the boy is never loud if he can help it.

But he’ll take it, Force will he ever take what Obi-Wan gives when he’s actually expressing vulnerability and fear only to accept the comfort Qui-Gon is trying to offer him since he became his padawan.

He had done the same thing when he had his breakdown but this is different, Obi-Wan is fully conscious of who is there and what he’s doing instead of his emotions having been driven to past the breaking point.

Qui-Gon had honestly been expecting something of the sort for days now, Obi-Wan’s constant state of hyper-awareness was a severely unhealthy state for anyone to remain in for to long and Obi-Wan had not decompressed or relaxed properly for so long.

Yet here they were, Qui-Gon kneeling by the beanbag, cooling tea on the floor and Obi-Wan’s keening sobs feeling the air as he clung to his master’s lax hand.

Pressing his nose to the others hair, Qui-Gon continued to murmur soothing praise, keeping his tone even.

Who cared about the hand.

It would be alright in an hour or two, what was important now was Obi-Wan’s sobs and his need for comfort that Qui-Gon was able to provide for the long lasting consequences of this could be what finally had Obi-Wan trust him.


	14. Maybe not call it punishment

Standing in front of his master, Obi-Wan tried not to tremble.

Kept reminding himself that Qui-Gon was not Olliander Shkma, that this man had never harmed him but had instead been helping him from the moment he had figured out Obi-Wan’s situation and was still doing his best to aid Obi-Wan.

“…You do understand that I have to set a punishment for this Obi-Wan, right?” Qui-Gon said quietly, the man sounding ever so disappointed which caused Obi-Wan to flinch before nodding quickly, his eyes focused on the man’s slipper covered feet as he sat on their couch with Obi-Wan standing quietly, tracing the details of the cartoonish nexus on the blue slippers. “Obi-Wan… look at me?” Qui-Gon continued with that quiet tone.

Eyes slowly trailing up the man’s body until they were on the others mouth framed by the graying chestnut colored beard, Obi-Wan couldn’t quite go further and instead his breath hitched and he wrapped his arms around himself, wetness building in his eyes.

“Oh Obi-Wan, padawan come here,” Qui-Gon sighed deeply before pulling Obi-Wan down on the couch and into his arms via a hand, hugging him into his chest as he carefully rubbed Obi-Wan’s upper back. “Obi-Wan its alright, you’re not going to be harmed but you must understand that fighting will earn you a punishment.” He said as calmly as he could.

Obi-Wan’s skin felt too hot, too tight as he clung to the man’s tunic, his breath hitching as he tried to fight his sobs. “I-I didn’t mean to! He and then and there was and I didn’t mean to!” He cried out, babbling really before burying his face into the man’s tunic to start crying hard, body wracking sobs.

“I know, I know, Padawan Chun hit you in the back scar, he triggered a flashback and he will not be coming away from this scoot free either,” Qui-Gon promised, rocking his padawan slowly. “You reacted to stimuli and we will be adding that to the next session we have with the mind healer padawan.” He rumbled before letting out a soft surprised noise when Obi-Wan outright crawled into his lap for comfort, hiding as he bundled himself as small as humanly possible until he resembled a quivering bundle of sobbing sounds that caused a spot of Qui-Gon’s tunic to darken with the moisture.

Holding the teen to him, Qui-Gon decided to just let him cry and seek comfort like a small child would, rocking and murmuring soothing nonsense until the tears finally eased out what felt like hours later but must be maybe half an hour, Obi-Wan certainly having a massive headache as he rested his cheek on the wet spot.

His eyes were swollen and rimmed red and his cheeks were flushed with his bottom lip bright red from being chewed on but at least he was no longer crying into Qui-Gon’s collarbone as his breathing calmed down and became easier.

Running his hand gently through the spikes of hair and down to the chin, Qui-Gon tilted the others head up. “Better?” He asked, hoping that the release of emotions had helped.

Sniffling but nodding, Obi-Wan covered his mouth to give a little cough. “Better.” He rasped out.

“You ready to hear what your punishment will be?” Qui-Gon asked gently, feeling Obi-Wan stiffen on his lap.

The word punishment would always draw that reaction Qui-Gon expected but considering what Obi-Wan had gone through, that was not so shocking and he tried not to take any offense to it, instead cursing out Shkma once more for trying to destroy this youth in an attempt to make himself feel more powerful. And this time Obi-Wan nodded hesitantly, eyes wide but not looking like he might cry any moment once more as he sat up a bit more on Qui-Gon’s lap to watch him.

“You’re going to have curfew for a week,” Qui-Gon started. “Unless there’s a class going on or you are with me you have to come back to the quarters at 6 pm. We will be meditating together as usual but there will be an extra meditation daily for mindfulness and you are to apologize to Bruck Chun for breaking his arm.” He finished up. He knew that the other boy’s master would be demanding Chun apologize to Obi-Wan too though he wasn’t sure a forced apology was worth anything since he wasn’t actually sure the boy felt bad about hitting Obi-Wan in the scar that the entire temple had somehow become aware of.

Obi-Wan stared at him, mute for several long moments before opening his mouth and closing it. Finally he swallowed heavily and seemed to find words. “That’s all? Just… come home early for a week a-and say sorry to Chun?” He whispered in disbelief. “And some extra meditation to help me be more aware?”

“Well that and you’re going to have to ask to use the comm to contact your friends once you come home, but yes. That is what your punishment will be.” Qui-Gon watched him calmly before smiling when Obi-Wan instantly hid in his chest, shaking a bit as his relief swamped the Force like a physical thing. ‘Poor padawan, my poor little one… he’s totally skewed your sense of what a correct punishment is… what care is suppose to feel like…’ He carefully tucked his arms around the redhead once more in reassurance, feeling the tremors of the body and the fresh tears of relief joining the ones of panic earlier.


	15. Consequences

Offering Obi-Wan the plate of orange slices, mind healer Valentine smiled softly at him. “They’re fresh, I promise.” He said quietly when Obi-Wan hesitated.

Glancing at his master’s encouraging expression, Obi-Wan finally took a slice and settled back into the other Jedi’s side, nibbling slowly while averting his eyes down to Valentine’s feet and therefor missing the pleased expression traded between the two older men.

Obi-Wan had been showing progress in accepting things from others and even just accepting a piece of fruit that he had watched Valentine peel was a good sign.

He hadn’t been able in the beginning with the mind healer.

“Now, Qui-Gon here informed me that you had… adverse reaction to the word punishment,” Valentine paused as Obi-Wan flinched a bit, unable to hide it. “Yes like that… I would suggest trading out the word punishment with consequences.” He directed that at Qui-Gon, the master quickly nodding before looking at down at Obi-Wan as his padawan curled more up against him, seeming like a small child instead of an older teen.

He would often exhibit behavior as such when he felt decently safe.

Neither Valentine or Qui-Gon scolded him for that as Obi-Wan needed the opportunity to relax and grow and being afraid would never encourage growth.

The occasional show of childish behavior was quite okay with them and especially the kind that sought affection and comfort. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was throwing the end of all tantrums, throwing things around like a two year old throwing toys out of his pram after all.

‘Everyone deserves comfort, regardless if its childish. Seeking comfort should honestly not be called childish at all.’ Qui-Gon thoughtfully pondered to himself while gently stroking Obi-Wan’s braid and scalp with a gentle hand, feeling little scars hidden by hair.

It was why he allowed Obi-Wan to have a longer than average haircut for padawans as the tiny bald patches were rather obvious with Obi-Wan’s bright red hair and pale skin.

“Do you think that would be a good word to use Obi-Wan?” Valentine prompted gently, bringing Qui-Gon back to the moment quite firmly.

Licking his lips clean of fruit juice, Obi-Wan nodded slowly while glancing between them. “I think that will be okay… consequences sounds… better.” He mumbled out.

But notebly he did not tense or squirm or as much as look away.

A much better word.

Valentine smiled and opened his mouth before letting out a soft noise when the chrono chimed, looking at it in surprise. “Oh, it seems our hour is up… do you want another appointment Obi-Wan?” He smiled warmly at him, blue eyes glittering warmly.

Nodding slowly, Obi-Wan smiled shyly back.

“Then we’ll set you up…” Valentine leaned back to check his terminal. “How about the third next month? So three weeks from now?” He sat back, straightening up and rubbing his back lightly from the ache he had given himself, short blond hair glittering in the warm light of his office.

Nodding, Qui-Gon stood. “That sounds quite fine, thank you once more for your aid Valentine.” He said, helping Obi-Wan up.

“Of course, as long as one seeks help from the halls, it will be provided.” Valentine assured.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan smiled, holding onto Qui-Gon’s tunic hem at the back to keep it out of view from others, his hand hidden by the Jedi robe.

Smiling, Qui-Gon lead Obi-Wan towards the door, his arm around the others shoulders. “Now, how about we go and get some lunch Obi-Wan, what do you feel like having?” He rumbled.

“Can we have Haruun curry?” Obi-Wan requested hopefully, eyes slightly on the wide side.

“That sounds good, yes I do believe we can go there. The refectory on the east side of the Halls should have curry.” Qui-Gon mused thoughtfully, feeling Obi-Wan relax into his side as they left the office.


	16. A proper guardian

“Master?”

The quiet voice cut through his interesting read of the horror novel Mace had loaned him and Qui-Gon blinked a bit as he sat the pad down instantly while giving Obi-Wan his full attention.

It wasn’t often that Obi-Wan disturbed him when Qui-Gon was doing something and generally he had a very good cause for it.

It meant that Qui-Gon had to pay attention.

Especially when the other was standing in front of Qui-Gon, right hand raised to his left upper arm where it rubbed slowly as the redhead stared at the Jedi master knees.

“Yes Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon prompted, keeping his voice even settling back to try and pull some of the tension out of Obi-Wan by pulling out of the others zone. “Was there something you wanted?” He added after a moment of silence.

Opening his mouth, Obi-Wan seemed to strain for words before biting down harshly on his bottom lip and shaking his head, lifting his eyes to Qui-Gon uncertainly. “…Mind Healer Valentine says that I’ll feel better if I finally told someone about the things Shkma did to me. That it would help me heal if I could… talk about it.” He stated quietly, going tense again but keeping eye contact with his Jedi master.

Nodding slowly, putting his pad away fully to the little side table against the couch, Qui-Gon patted the couch beside him. “Yes, talking about the things that happens to one can help you cope and heal. Like we’ve been doing since we started meeting with mind healer Valentine.” Qui-Gon rumbled gently as Obi-Wan gingerly sat down at the very edge of the couch, looking as if he wanted to flee.

He looked spooked, almost as nervous as the first few days he had arrived in the quarters.

Resting his hand on his own thigh to avoid the temptation to tap them, Qui-Gon smiled a bit. “You have started to feel better right?” He queried gently.

That got him Obi-Wan looking him right in the eye again with a surprised look in his eyes before he nodded slowly. “I guess… yeah I mean… sort of,” He rubbed the back of his neck before nodding more firmly. “Yeah, it has helped.” Obi-Wan said more securely.

Glad to see the confidence, Qui-Gon nodded. “Good. I’m glad Obi-Wan, that’s the way its suppose to be. You’re suppose to start feeling better.” He said in a softer tone.

Shifting a bit further onto the couch pillow, Obi-Wan opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly before sighing and tucking his arms around himself. “…Masters aren’t suppose to touch their padawans intimately are they?” He asked quietly, his tone empty.

Heart sinking to his bare toes, Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan even as he violently threw his urge to strangle Shkma’s and watch the life drain from his eyes out into the Force before Obi-Wan could feel it and be frightened. “…No Obi-Wan, they aren’t.” He rasped.

Rubbing his arms slowly, Obi-Wan nodded before sniffling and looking at Qui-Gon, his eyes seeking as if he didn’t think that Qui-Gon would believe him.

Opening his arms to the other Qui-Gon breathed out heavily as Obi-Wan crawled into his arms and hid in his chest for he found no disgust, no denial, only horror and belief in Obi-Wan for the Jedi master _knew_ that Obi-Wan was not about to lie about such a thing.

He wasn’t crying, wasn’t making a noise, only tiredly rested his head on Qui-Gon’s chest as the Force filled with a resigned sadness over the experiences he had gone through along with the realization that Shkma was _wrong_.

Obi-Wan hadn’t deserved any of the treatment handed to him, it was _all_ Shkma’s fault.

Tucking his cheek onto the others head, Qui-Gon breathed out heavily and held his padawan to him while trying not to imagine the worst of situation without knowing anything but those few words. “Oh Obi-Wan… my poor padawan.” He whispered, horrified at the depth a Jedi had sunk to.

Rubbing his cheek to Qui-Gon’s collarbone, Obi-Wan soaked in the warmth of the other. “…I’ll mention it to Valentine next time… c-can we just… sit here for a while master? Please?” Obi-Wan questioned desperately and he let out a relieved sigh when Qui-Gon gave a noise of agreement, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around the two of them as they sat in the evening sun of their apartment, the sun shining in through their windows.

“Anything you want padawan.” Qui-Gon promised, large, warm hand resting on the small of Obi-Wan’s back where he knew the others lightsaber scars rested, sending a light pulsing healing Force to numb it.

Against him Obi-Wan melted a bit, closing his eyes to soak in the comfort of a real Jedi master.

A real guardian.


	17. Anger spikes

He’s suppose to be calm.

Qui-Gon is Obi-Wan’s representative in this case, as his new master and guardian, Qui-Gon is suppose to handle being present to watch the proceeding and judgment.

But Obi-Wan’s quiet voice enters his head, his down turned face as he furiously twists his hands into the hem of his tunic.

The quiet words ringing in Qui-Gon’s ears in this moment as Shkma turns and _smirks_ of all things at him.

‘He wanted to punish me… he said if I wouldn’t learn from scars… he had a new way to teach me to be obedient…’

No one gets a warning.

Qui-Gon may be getting older but he’s a Jedi and his genre of sub-human are long lived. He jumps out of his chair and _lunges_ across the floor as fast as he can humanly go, cocking back his fist and slamming his hand into the soft flesh of Shkma’s face.

He can feel something give in his hand but more than that he can hear the others nose break and it makes him viciously happy because he knows that this man has broken Obi-Wan’s nose many times, has done so much worse.

He’s viciously happy as the man hits the floor despite the Sentinels suddenly standing between Qui-Gon and the downed man.

Not that it matters, Qui-Gon did what he wanted and he’s not trying to attack anymore.

He wiped that smirk of the former Jedi’s face.

()()()

Looking up when he heard the door open, Obi-Wan opened his mouth to greet his master only to jump to his feet from the armchair when he saw the others arm wrapped in bandages. “Master!” He yelped, rushing around the couch to nervously flutter in front of him as Qui-Gon removed his boots first.

Then Qui-Gon reached out and pulled Obi-Wan to his chest, wrapping him in a gentle hug, the bandaged hand brushing Obi-Wan’s neck.

Blinking, Obi-Wan fisted his hands into the others tunic.

All day he had been feeling odd, since Qui-Gon left for the court session with Shkma, feeling guilty about the other wasting an entire day just representing Obi-Wan but… he _couldn’t_ see Shkma again. The very thought brought ice to his stomach.

And then there had been a moment when the fledgling bond between he and Qui-Gon had sprung open for a second, furious rage feeding into it for a moment, which had honestly scared the hell out of Obi-Wan only for the bond to close with smug satisfaction before Obi-Wan could even begin to parse out what was going on.

He had… focused on his studies after that, sitting quietly with Bant and Reeft while working on homework.

Finally Qui-Gon sighed deeply. “So… I did something stupid today and I would severely point out to you that violence is not the way to deal with thing commonly.” He started with slowly while holding Obi-Wan still.

“…Is this about the court session? I felt your anger spike.” Obi-Wan whispered.

There was a deep, tired rumble. “I apologize for that… but yes… I punched Olliander Shkma so hard his nose broke.” There was something smug in Qui-Gon’s tone.

Blinking in shock against the others chest, Obi-Wan tightened his grasp on Qui-Gon’s tunic. “…Why?” He whispered.

There was another deep sigh and Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon rest his cheek on Obi-Wan’s head. “Because for everything he did against you… he deserved it,” Obi-Wan could hear Qui-Gon’s throat as the other swallowed harshly. “And because I know he’s not sorry. He’s not sorry Obi-Wan and I lost my temper because you glow in the Force, you are a beacon that he threatened to dim… and that’s unforgivable.” Qui-Gon whispered roughly and Obi-Wan felt as if he had a rock lodged in his throat, working to swallow around only to let out a little gasping noise as silent tears finally escaped his eyes, his hands loosening enough to wrap around the other Jedi in an answering hug.

Because Qui-Gon had done it because he _cared_ about Obi-Wan.

Because Obi-Wan was his padawan and that was it.

It was just that simple.

Obi-Wan had a real master for the first time in his life and it was this overly tall giant of a man who nurtured plants, enjoyed sapir tea and left his dirty socks by the couch sometimes and Obi-Wan couldn’t ask for anything else in the galaxy. Because he had the best kind of master in the galaxy.

The kind that cared.


	18. You do not have to speak

Listening quietly at the door, Obi-Wan gripped his tunic hem tightly while biting his bottom lip as Windu kept tearing into Qui-Gon for lashing out at Shkma. Obviously Qui-Gon hadn’t told anyone exactly why he punched the man, though everyone quite correctly assumed it was because of Obi-Wan.

But the actual reason was kept by the man who perpetrated the action and it was not a very Jedi like behavior after all.

Of course there would be consequences, especially as Qui-Gon outright said he wasn’t sorry at all when faced with four council members in his own quarters as he peered at them from his position in his recliner.

Clearly that had been the wrong thing and Windu was verbally lashing the man for behaving like an ogre and there was a threat of suspension with mind healer sessions until he was cleared by them, that such violence was not a sign of instability or some such.

Obi-Wan couldn’t let that happen, not when Qui-Gon was trying to protect him, to stick up for Obi-Wan.

So he stepped out of his room quickly before he could second-guess himself. “He did it for me.” Obi-Wan said quietly yet his voice cut through everything.

Qui-Gon stood up fast enough to jerk his recliner back several inches, hurrying around the caff table to his padawan’s side. “Obi-Wan, you don’t have to tell them anything. I’m fine with suspension.” The man stated firmly, carefully settling a bandaged hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder under the gazes of the four council members.

Shaking his head a bit, Obi-Wan managed to twitch his lips in a semblance of a smile that was really more a grimace before he turned his eyes on Windu, Plo, Ti and Gallia.

He couldn’t meet their eyes however, found a spot just below Windu’s nose to stare at which seemed to be decent enough as he wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t want you punished for me Master. I told master the truth about what Shkma did towards me, in full scale, and it upset him rather pointedly.” Obi-Wan voice started strong but it ended in a whisper.

Qui-Gon shifted, settling both hands on his shoulders in a comforting and supporting motion.

“…What Shkma did towards you?” Ti questioned in her soft sotto voice.

Swallowing harshly, looking down at his feet while clenching his hands on his upper arms, Obi-Wan pressed himself into Qui-Gon’s warmth and grasp. “…He’s been sexually abusing me since I was fourteen among everything else he did to me.” Obi-Wan got out as steady as he could, feeling a bit numb.

There was a muted gasp, the hissing of breath between teeth and Obi-Wan shuddered heavily at the reaction, desperately seeking to hide as he kept his eyes on his feet.

Feeling the gazes of the other Jedi on him the young man turned and Obi-Wan hid in Qui-Gon’s chest as he gave into his urge, shaking as warm arms wrapped around him and large fingers gently rubbed his nape. “It is alright Obi-Wan, you do not have to say another word, we will speak with mind healer Valentine about this and no one else and even then you don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to say another word unless you want to Obi-Wan” The man soothed, his voice and his Force aura oozing of worry and protectiveness.

Breath hitching, Obi-Wan pressed even closer into the man’s warm chest, shaking hard as his ears cottoned to the noise in the quarters. This was a safe space, Qui-Gon was a safe space.

If the other said Obi-Wan didn’t have to then he really didn’t have to.

Qui-Gon would make things better, would make sure things were alright.


	19. Safe here

Packing up his bag, Obi-Wan paused to stare into it, taking note of his spare tunic, leggings, underwear, toiletries, his medication and his carving blade along with his password protected mission pad and his own none essential but something to speed up time in transit and so on pad.

Then he slowly looked around his room, taking in the ship mobile Qui-Gon had gifted him with, the  little ship lighting up as they swung slowly around and his messy desk full of homework that was half finished.

Nothing he needed to hurry on, all of it was things he had ample time to finish.

Because he was leaving the Jedi temple.

Excitement and nervousness trampled through him at that thought and he looked back down at his bag before reaching over to his pillow and pulling over the little soft lothcat Qui-Gon had give him not that long ago.

It wasn’t bigger than a fist, made of gray striped fur with white paws and amber eyes but… it was soft.

It was so soft and hugging it made Obi-Wan feel better when he was upset and Qui-Gon wasn’t there to help him in the moment because maybe he was with the council or he was with someone else.

Qui-Gon couldn’t be there _all_ the time.

So he had gotten him someone who could, Buddy, his little plushie tooka.

Hugging it, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and smiled as the toy still smelled of Qui-Gon before carefully tucking it into his bag too.

For the first time since Olliander Shkma was taken in over a year and a half ago, Obi-Wan was going to go on a mission with his master, with Qui-Gon out into the stars and he was nervous but also excited and uncertain and just…

So many emotions.

Valentine said that was okay, to feel all these things but he had to work on not letting them consume him.

Feeling was healthy, expressing emotion was healthy but it was less healthy to let them eat him up and make him stop moving forward or let them freeze him in his tracks at important moments. Bottling them up was also unhealthy.

Obi-Wan would like to say he’s come a long way, being able to talk with Valentine and Qui-Gon about all the things that happened to him, finding outlets for his emotions like drawing and Qui-Gon had also gotten him into wood carving of all things.

The first feeble attempt Obi-Wan had done of a tooka had ended up looking more like a deformed malastrian bear and yet Qui-Gon had looked so proud of it and had it displayed on the main shelf in the living room, proudly showing it off to any master or knight that came to their quarters.

It was embarrassing… but also nice.

“Are you ready Obi-Wan?”

‘Talk about the sun and he appears.’ Obi-Wan thought in amusement before turning and smiling at the proud looking master standing in the doorway with his bag slung over one shoulder and a warm smile on his weathered face and his eyes wrinkled up with his smile.

So many surgeries, so much treatment, so many mistakes and mishaps and therapy hours and _finally_ Obi-Wan could see the light at the end of the tunnel, that he could finally be a Jedi. Could see the wounds Shkma left finally heal and scar over.

Still painful, still there and stiff but finally, _finally_ healing enough for him to move forward.

Nodding, Obi-Wan picked up his bag and slung it over his back, ignoring how that prickled at some of his deeper scars. “I’m ready Master.” Obi-Wan moved out of his room to stand beside the other.

Smile growing, Qui-Gon gently brushed the back of his knuckles over Obi-Wan’s slightly scruffy cheek. “You’ve come so far Obi-Wan,” He whispered in a softly fond tone that had Obi-Wan flushing even as he smiled up at the tall man. “Come along my boy, lets us see what our mission brings.” Qui-Gon settled his arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder, both of them heading for the door to put on their boots and greet their life as a proper Jedi master and apprentice pair.


End file.
